


The Court of King Thomas I

by HIMS



Category: HIMS (Real-Life)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Tudor Era, F/F, F/M, HIMS, Historical Accuracy, M/M, Medieval AU, Older Characters, Tudor Era, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 14:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11187033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HIMS/pseuds/HIMS
Summary: What would happen if the students at HIMS were in a Tudor-era court rife with disease, war, and beheadings?The year is 1520 and Thomas is the King of England.





	1. A Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Well this happened. -Lizzie (not my real name)

Hampton Court, 1520 A.D.

The king was incredibly bored.

He had been sitting at this table listening to advisors ramble on and on about various issues for hours now. One by one, they had left, until only three people were left. His Privy Seal, the Earl of Lennox, his master of horses and prominent advisor, Elizabeth, Duchess of York, and the supplier of the kitchens, Esmerelda, Baroness of Grafton. Probably the only people he could stand at the time.

Esmerelda, a tall woman with hair in a English gable hood that was popular in the court, was describing the shortage of Kentish apples in the kitchens. “And because of the recent storms along the English Channel, we’ve been unable to get apples from Burgundy and from Aquitaine, so we need a supplier from somewhere in England.” Thomas tapped his fingers along the great wood table they sat along. _Can’t she decide for herself?_ “I don’t care. Just get some. West Country, Norfolk, hell, for all I care. Be gone.” Esmerelda stood up and curtsied to him, backing off a few steps before turning around and walking off. “What do you want, Lizzie?”

The Duchess of York smiled, far more shrewd than the Baroness had been. “Your Grace.” She began, fiddling slightly with the pins holding her hair up under her hood. “One of the prize broodmares was let out into a pen that happened to have a pack pony in it. She was in heat. The pony was a stallion. Unfortunately, she is with foal. How would Your Grace discipline the stableboy who let her out?”

Thomas had understood roughly zero of what Lizzie had said. “Deal with the horse as you wish. And the child… transfer him to the kitchens or the forge. Somewhere.” Lizzie nodded, her mind already moving a mile a minute with thoughts for the future. She inclined her head towards the Earl. 

Lennox was blinking slowly, unsure of how to deal with the situation. Thomas focused his eyes on the small Earl. “Er, Your Grace.” He said. “We have a slight… issue.” Lennox inhaled. “With rebels.” “Lancastrians?” Lizzie immediately asked with a hopeful tone of voice. Lennox shook his head. “Yorkists.” “Shit…” The Duchess muttered under her breath. Thomas punched her hand that was resting on the table before turning to Lennox.

“Details?” “Small group risen around the young Earl of Warwick. What’s his name… Edmund?” 

“Teddy.” Lizzie said quietly. “Edward, Earl of Warwick. The young Duchess had always been partial to York. Though her loyalties lay with the king, it was had for her to bear thinking of the Duke of Clarence’s son as a traitor.

“It’s located mostly in the Oxfordshire area, extending towards Gloucester as well. What are you going to do about it?” Thomas immediately had an answer. “I’m going out there to fight. Get troops- archers, cavalry, infantry, and all the peasants who survive shall either swear their allegiance to their king, or be executed by my hand!” he stated, drawing the German sword-cane he had been gifted by the Kaiser. The sword itself was long and well polished, with an ornate hilt of ivory, and the walking stick was made of the finest Lebanese cedar. 

Lizzie immediately piped up. “Are you going to fight among infantry?” That made Thomas think. The king was certainly an infantry fighter- the idea of whacking things with a mace in the center of a thick battle was very appealing to him. But he was a king, and kings traditionally fought on horseback. Thomas was… not the most skilled horseman.

“No.” He decided. “Cavalry allows me to flee if needed, and perhaps the rebels will run when they see me charging towards them on a horse.” Lizzie frowned. “It’s dangerous- I’m not quite confident you can wield a weapon from the back of a charging horse. You could fall or lose balance.”

“Nonsense. If you think I need work, teach me.” Lizzie actually nodded. Thomas began to feel dread. He thought she wouldn’t take the challenge… 

“Alright, how about we leave in a week or so. I can meet His Grace every day for the training, and it’s long enough to move court.” 

“Who said anything about moving court?” Lennox and Lizzie exchanged eyes nervously.

“Er... “ Lennox began. “The Prince Skög.” Lizzie mouthed the name ‘Richard’. She had always disagreed with the naming of his children. “Is… er… ill.” 

“WHAT?” Thomas yelled. “WHY DIDN’T YOU INFORM ME?”

“We only got the news this morning.” Lizzie said calmly. She disliked children, even the king’s.

“We are moving to Ludlow immediately.” Thomas said in a slightly panicked tone. 

“Why don’t we leave in a week?” Lizzie inquired. “We can stop to fight the battle, then head to Wales.”

“Fine.” Thomas said angrily. “We leave next week… and we stay in Ludlow until the Prince of Wales is better.” _Or dead._


	2. The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas fights against the rebels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you want to be added to the story -Lizzie

Burford, 1520 AD

Thomas sat on his elegant dapple grey warsteed, Gråhesten, looking over the village. It really was an idyllic little hamlet, green fields, houses and shops with neatly thatched roofs, a priory over on one side. Truly a shame he would have to ruin it.

The rebels’ camp was located in a field on the east side, closer to Gloucester, the town whose title had been held by the former king. Naturally it had become a stronghold for the rebellion. 

Lizzie was familiar with the village, she had been there before and knew the basic layout. She was mounted on her elegant bay gelding, Corlord, trotting along the front lines barking out commands. She wasn’t fighting, but had taken full responsibility for organising the cavalry units herself. 

“Sit up in the saddle! You’re not a sack of potatoes, don’t act like one.” The sleepy-looking soldier with TRI embroidered on his doublet sat up immediately, looking startled. “Move aside, George. Put your lance down, we wouldn’t want you skewering everyone.” She reached Thomas and settled her horse beside his. 

“You should be back at camp with the court.” Thomas remarked, pulling his sword out of the cane-sheath and passing the sheath to a servant. 

“I’m the master of horses and I will act like one.” Lizzie took her feet out of the stirrups and relaxed a bit. “Lennox.” She acknowledged the Privy Seal as he settled on Thomas’ other side.

“Lizzie.” He replied, and the three of them looked over the field, at the rebels getting into formation. Far in the distance, a banner was raised. Lizzie didn’t need to look to know that it was her beloved white rose on blue. Thomas raised his hand and his cedar leaf on grey was raised, the two flags flying in opposition.

“Be gone.” He said to Lizzie, and she nodded and rode off. Little did he know she was just watching from a tree. Lennox signalled to his men and a baritone horn blew. A distant sound replied. This was where Thomas was supposed to make a dramatic speech. He didn’t particularly feel like it. 

“Go forth!” He yelled, spotting faces in the army: the Earl of Wiltshire, the Duke of Gloucester. “And kill some rebels!”

He turned his horse around and kicked it forward, yelling a death cry and waving his sword in the air.

“FOR KING THOMAS!” Someone yelled behind him. Hundreds of voices repeated it.

“FOR KING THOMAS! FOR ENGLAND!” The meagre cavalry in the rebels began to charge too, but not anything like Thomas’ charge. 

“FOR NORWAY!” He yelled as his sword collided with the first soldier. Blood spilled out and the man fell onto the ground, trampled beneath the king’s horse. Mid-charge, Thomas looked around, trying to find the blue banners around the pretender. There. He swung his sword at another, and another died. He began to stop paying attention, but a hard blow knocked him out of the saddle and his horse fled. “GAH!” He yelled in anger. “PESKY PEASANT!” He knocked the peasant to the ground and whacked him several times with the flat of his blade until he saw the man pass out. I will execute him myself at the Tower.

“Your Grace!” Thomas turned his head and saw Lennox. “Look!” He saw that most people lying on the ground were wearing the white rose. The battle was almost won… and in only about an hour. 

“The pretender is getting away!” Someone yelled. In a fit of rage, the king pulled the man off his horse and hopped on instead. He began to gallop towards the pretender and his guards. He was getting closer and closer… and they were beginning to tire. Suddenly, Lizzie came out of nowhere on Corlord, cutting in front of them. She rammed her shoulder into the pretender’s side and he fell off, landing on the ground.

“You want him alive?” She asked, as the two guards made their way closer. Thomas killed the guards with a single stroke of his sword.

“Yes.” He replied. “But first of all, what the bloody hell was that?” She shrugged.

“I got bored.” It was a true show of loyalty on her part. Lizzie had deep sympathies for York and it was impressive that she didn’t stand back and watch. 

Thomas turned back towards the battleground. It was empty. The battle was won.


End file.
